


and i, of ladies most deject and wretched

by dream_another_dream



Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe — April Fools 2017, F/F, F/M, Foe Yay, Genderswap, Reverse Harem, ayano is senpaisexual, stalkers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-06-28 15:45:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15710298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dream_another_dream/pseuds/dream_another_dream
Summary: Ophelia died mercifully, Ayano thinks. Madness is the easy way out.





	1. a sigh so piteous and profound

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the male rivals video by accident and now we're here. Welp.

Ayano makes the mistake of falling in love with Senpai on a Tuesday.

She marks the day on her little planner, the cute one with little hearts on it that Midori-chan, her childhood friend all the way from preschool, had given her for her last birthday. It's more of a compulsory thing at this point—she doesn't particularly care for it, not really, but she'd gotten into the habit with using it and the routine had stuck.

After that, she counts the days. One day after meeting Senpai, two days, a week. A whole month. Somehow the school days become brighter when Senpai appears. She doesn't even realize she's staring until someone brushes past her rather brusquely in the hallway, and somehow the entire morning break has ended in the span of seconds.

"Can I help you?" Senpai asks one day, when Ayano's eyes stray a little too long. Ayano freezes, blushing with getting caught. Senpai has such a lovely confused face, she thinks, ducking down her face and staring at the ground shyly. Those eyes, that slight mouth pucker, her pale white neck— 

"I—" she stutters, grabbing at the edge of her school uniform.  _Establish_ _vulnerability_ , her mother's voice trills in her mind.  _You have to show them what a cute girl you are, darling~_

She peeks up again, and Senpai is still staring. She doesn't look annoyed, which is good, or afraid, which is an even better sign. There's even a hint of concern somewhere in there, as if she's _worried_ about Ayano, of all things. Of course. Ayano's Senpai is the best, the prettiest, the kindest. This is exactly something she'd be worried about.

" _I want to be your friend_ ," Ayano says in one rushed sentence. She panics a little afterwards, wondering if it had been too much, but Senpai's face is still as patient as always. "I, you, when we met..."

"Oh, the toast!" Senpai nods, her face lighting with recognition. "Silly, you should have talked to me then! Why wait until now?"

Ayano lowers her head again, smiling bashfully, but inside she's glowing with excitement. Senpai smiled at her. Senpai remembered her. Senpai knows she's there, and they're so close together Ayano could reach a centimeter in and touch her.

"I'm Yamada Taeko," Senpai says, but of course, Ayano already knows that. "What's your name?"

"Aishi Ayano," Ayano replies. She tucks a stray hair behind her ear. "Nice to meet you."


	2. sweet flowers; bewept to the grave did not go

Ayano doesn't really like Senpai's friend, really. Not at all, as a matter of fact, she decides, carefully eyeing him from where he has the audacity to  _lean_ on Senpai's shoulder.

"Where'd you get the lost duckling from?" Najimi Osana laughs, running a hand through his hair. It isn't dyed, Ayano discovers after intense scrutiny, but she can't tell if it makes her hate him more. Somehow the fact that the closest person next to Senpai  _isn't_ a scumbag, worthless Yankee brings out a defensive side she didn't know she had.

"Osana," Senpai says, a warning tone, but she's smiling. "Play nice with the underclassmen."

They're joking around. There's an undertone of familiarity between both of them, and Ayano hates it, wants nothing more than to tear the two of them apart and take Senpai into her willing arms.

She scoots closer to the other side of Senpai. It's warm, midday, and little stray droplets from the fountain spray here and there over her clothes. She doesn't understand how Senpai can bear it, given how many books she reads out in the spring sunlight. What if they were to get wet?

"So, how's school going?" Senpai asks, leaning back until her hair almost brushes past the stream of water trailing down the cement build. Ayano watches it with morbid fascination, plagued with possibility. "Who's your homeroom teacher?"

"Fuka-sensei," Ayano answers. She thinks about the stern, almost intimidating figure that had towered over them in the podium that morning, and then the strange bizarreness of it all, feeling the woman's sharp-eyed glare focused on her the entire class.

Senpai laughs, the apples of her cheeks bobbing up. "I love her!" she crows, sitting up and shrugging Osana off her shoulder. Ayano bares her teeth in victory. "I had her last year. Don't worry, she'll love you."

Senpai must have a strange view of love, then, because Ayano is sure that what her teacher feels for her is far from fondness. She doesn't mention it, of course, playing the model underclassman, nodding coyly with every other thing Senpai says.

"How about your classmates?" Senpai asks again. "Are you getting along with them?"

"I—I know some people," Ayano says. She folds her hands in her lap. "I don't know how to approach them, though."

It's another lie. Her classmates get along with her fairly well, a textured lie engineered through years of acquaintance. Senpai might turn her away, though, if she knows that Ayano isn't as helpless as she looks, and that is a fate worse than anything imaginable.

"Any boys?" Senpai winks. "Ah, to be young again."

"No!" Ayano hisses, then covers her mouth again, pretending to be abashed.

"Oh, it's okay, you can tell me," Senpai laughs, but moves on the with the topic anyway. "Have you thought about any clubs yet..."

It devolves into gym class and extracurriculars and even a hint of college and afterwards. Ayano gives short, five word or less sentences to any of Senpai's questions, not wanting to tell too much and get called out on any lies.

"Are you just going to keep staring?" Osana snaps, after yet another question and answer between the two of them. "Seriously, don't you have anything to add to the conversation?"

Ayano stares, blank-eyed, and tries not the let the irritation spill through in her gaze. "W—what?" she stutters, carefully taking opportunity to grab onto Senpai's shirt. It's soft and sheer, and she can feel Senpai's body heat emanating inside, so warm against her cold fingers.

"Osana!" Senpai says again, this time serious. "I don't know what you have against Ayano, but she's just a kid!"

Just a kid. The realization is jarring. Senpai thinks Ayano's just a little girl without any friends, and the other option will have to take months and months before it can fully reach fruition. 

Ayano tries not to look resentful. She channels it into hurt, instead, and turns to look at Osana and his exposed neck, so easy for her to grab onto and  _twist_.

Osana stares coldly back. He knows what she's here for, Ayano realizes. Sometime during their talk he'd realized that the best friend by his side hadn't been so secure after all, and now there can only be one of them for the end.

"Okay, I won't any more, Taeko," Osana says, grumpily. He wraps an arm around Senpai's waist, but doesn't say anything else, just looks warily at Ayano like he's marking territory.

"Let's all get along," Senpai says, tired. She gestures for Ayano to come closer. "Osana didn't mean that, I'm sure. He's just grumpy when he's hungry."

"I brought you lunch today, okay," Osana mutters into her shoulder. "Don't I get better treatment than this?"

Senpai laughs, but it's a strained one. "Thank you, Osana," she says, and then turns to Ayano. "Why don't you come closer? We still have a while until break ends."

Ayano perches comfortably next to Senpai, and the little empty space in her heart warms up a little.


	3. and yet, what is this quintessence of dust

Osana wasn't even the least of it. Ayano doesn't realize just how popular Senpai is until she catches Ruto Oka, the odd, eccentric president of the Occult Club, ogling Senpai from the open window of his club room.

Ogling  _her_ Senpai! Him! That _freak_!

It makes sense, though. There's something about Senpai that just draws people in like moths to an open flame. Oka probably can't help staring, Ayano reasons, but curls her lip regardless. She'll give him a warning first to back off, and anything that happens afterwards is entirely on him.

"Taeko-senpai," she says shyly, snaking an arm around Senpai's waist. Osana is nowhere in sight, but she peeks around the perimeter just in case.

Senpai hums. "Yes?" she says, licking her lips and turning the page of her book. She doesn't turn to look at Ayano, but there's a sense of acknowledgement at their proximity.

This is her Senpai.  _Hers_.

"Do you know Oka-senpai?" Ayano asks. She snuggles into Senpai's warm shoulders. She wants to know how Senpai can look so beautiful and so elegant at the same time, so cold and so warm and oh-so-kind.

Senpai pauses. "The Occult Club president?" she asks, looking up. "No, I don't know him that well. Why, Ayano?"

"Oh, nothing," Ayano says casually. "Just wondering."

"Do you think he's cute?" Senpai laughs. She puts the book down, reaching out her other hand to lightly squeeze Ayano's cheek. "Well, he's certainly easy on the eyes, but I didn't think that was your taste."

"N— _no_!" Ayano protests, turning away. "I didn't—didn't mean—"

"Oh, I know," Senpai smiles, like she's telling a secret. "Don't worry, I won't tell."

It's easier not to say anything else after that. There's nothing she wants more than to reach down and kiss Senpai right now and tell her that this is all she wants, all she ever needs, but there's the ever-present fear of rejection.

Ayano has worked so,  _so_ hard up to this point. She can't lose everything. She can't lose Senpai.

"Mmm," she hums unenthusiastically. It's easier this way, she tells herself. Anyway, if Senpai thinks that she likes Oka, at least she can be sure that they won't get together anytime soon.

(Like Senpai will ever like Oka, anyway. Her Senpai has much better taste.)

* * *

 

"So I heard," says Taeko, lowering her voice like she's announcing something thrilling. "Our Ayano has her first crush!"

Osana almost spits out his coffee. "What?" he demands, wiping the residue onto his wrist.

Taeko laughs. "I didn't know, either," she confesses. "It was so surprising, too. She's so shy, I didn't think it would happen this fast."

Aishi Ayano is not shy. Osana sees the self-assured way that the girl gets along with the students in her grade, and the way some of the boys in her class trail after her like lost puppies. There's a reason why Ayano feeds fake woes and other self-pitying lies to Taeko. And Osana's ready to dig into the root of it.

If Ayano has bad intentions... well. He'll have to sort this out on his own.

"Who is it?" he demands grumpily. He doesn't want to know, not really, but curiosity digs into his bones, raw and needy.

"I'm not telling you," Taeko smiles mysteriously. Her eyes trail on him for a few long seconds. "Girls' secret. All I'm telling you is that it was unexpected."

 _Unexpected_... Osana mulls over the word for a few seconds, before a nagging feeling snakes its way into his head.

Ayano's sudden friendship with Taeko. Ayano's strange mannerisms and lies. Ayano looking at him with a strange expression. Ayano's unexpected crush.

The one Ayano likes is  _him_.

Suddenly it all adds up. The way that Ayano always glances at him when she's talking to Taeko. Or how she always cuts in between them when they're talking. Or the time she'd snuck bites out of the bento he'd made for Taeko.

She's a pretty girl, Osana has to concede. It's not the flashy kind of beauty people like Musume or the Basu sisters have. It's a more down-to-earth, girl-next-door kind of pretty that takes a while to sink in, but by that time it's impossible to look away.

Osana isn't one for crushes. He'd liked Taeko at one point of his life, but he'd always been too afraid to ruin the careful structure of their friendship. Ayano, though, is an entirely new experience.

"I see," he answers Taeko neutrally. "I... I have to go now."

He packs up before he knows what he's doing. He needs some time to reflect on this new development, he decides. If Ayano really does like him, he'd be a fool to pass on this opportunity.


	4. these but the trappings and the suits of woe

Ayano decides then and there that getting rid of Oka is her first priority. She's not keen to get her hands dirty—she's saved up her first kill to be somebody worthwhile—so for now, a less sinuous plan will have to do.

"I'd like to join your club," she says to the gloomy, eye-patch wearing girl near the entrance of the door. There's a part of her that wants to cluck at the obvious chuunibyou inspiredness of the whole affair, but really she couldn't really care less. She settles for a indifferent stare instead.

The girl looks up from her book. Ayano catches a glimpse of the cover:  _Studies of the Human_ _Physiology_ ; and remembers a similar copy holed up somewhere in her mother's study.

"E-excuse me?"

"The club," Ayano repeats. "I'd like to join it."

There's an obvious pause where they size each other up. The girl's mouth twitches, imperceptibly.

"K-kokuma," says the girl. The only other occupant in the room, a similar-looking girl, this time with short hair, straightens up from the couch opposite to them. "G-get Oka here"

The short-haired girl—Kokuma—nods. It suddenly strikes Ayano that all the people in the Occult Club look similar—dark purplish hair, a cheerless overcast, the same blank frown. It wouldn't be too hard to fit in, she decides, if she dyed her hair and replaced her wardrobe with something straight out of a grunge band.

"So, _um,_ what... what's your name?" the first girl asks. She sets the book down primly onto the drawer next to it. She has a sort of languid elegance to her, nothing at all like the awkward way she speaks. "I-I'm Supana."

"Ayano," Ayano says, offering her hand and trying to look as sweet and harmless as possible. "I've been a huge fan of the occult since I was young—my mother owns that book you were reading, actually."

"O-oh," Supana says. "Y-yeah, I love that book a lot. It's a g-good read."

"Are there any other recommendations you might have?" Ayano asks. She lets her eyes widen a little bit, stretching her lips out into a grin.  _Establish_ _vulnerability_ , repeats her mother's voice, over and over and over.

"Well, th-there's always,  _um , _ _A Black History_ ," Supana begins. She holds out a hand, listing the titles out as she talks. "It's a c-classic, and,  _uh_ ,  _The Demons Inside Us_ and  _The Five Pointed Star_. O-Oka might,  _um_ , a-actually know more if you ask him."

"I will," Ayano promises, and tries not to let her lip curl too high up with victory. "Actually, I was wondering if I could borrow any of the books that you own later?"

"Well," Supana says, her fingers grasping tightly to her skirt. "O-of course."

"We're friends now, aren't we?" Ayano croons. "Thank you so much, Supana-chan. You're amazing."

"N-no," Supana says, shaking her head. She flushes a little, but it's hard to tell under the dark purplish blush powdered onto her cheeks. "I-it's really nothing."

Ayano snakes her body around so that she's practically wrapped around the edge of the chair. "I can't tell you how much this means to..."

She trails off as the door creaks open, her eyes locked onto the new entrant of the room. Oka makes for a tall, intimidating figure in the dim light, his long, curly hair springing down past his shoulders.

"Y-you want to join the club?"

He shares the same voice affliction as all the rest seem to have, although his voice isn't nearly as mild as Supana's gentle murmur is. There's a hint of baritone in there, raspy and chilly. His eyes gleam a cold dark purple.

"Yeah," Ayano says, smiling. "I was just talking about occult book titles with Supana-chan, actually." She leans in closer to Supana, friendly and warm, grasping the other girl's hands.

Oka's eyes blink, and the cold atmosphere disperses. There's something not quite right with him, Ayano thinks to herself, although it'd be hypocritical to express that belief.

"O-oh. Then, _um_ , welcome," Oka says. And then, almost as a passing afterthought, he adds, "You have very beautiful eyes."

Goosebumps pop up unconsciously on Ayano's arms. She brushes it off, still grasping onto Supana, and laughs until she's almost certain she's hysterical.

* * *

 "You joined the Occult Club?" Senpai gasps, holding a hand to her mouth. "Oh, Ayano, I'm so happy for you!"

"Y-yeah," Ayano blushes, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "I was really nervous, you know, but they're all very nice."

"It does sound so," Senpai laughs. "I would join a club if I had time, but there's too much homework now to properly focus on anything."

Ayano smiles. In the shade, hidden safely away from the sun's insistent rays, there's nothing more satisfying than the feel of Senpai's comforting arm against her own.

Yes, she could stay like this forever. The world around them beats its raucous, merry tune, figurines marching on an endless trail—and yet here, snuggled safely on the rooftop, silence funnels into eternity.

"Oh, here comes Osana," Senpai remarks, and immediately Ayano's mood sours. "What's he doing— _goodness_..."

Osana arrives, cradling a comically large cloth bag. It bulges at odd angles, almost like a creatively rearranged cubist hedgehog. Little pink bow designs dot the red fabric.

"I made extras today," Osana announces. He pulls out from the bag a bento box, dumping it onto the bench next to Senpai. The next box he pulls out he holds, hesitating, before brusquely setting onto Ayano's lap. "Don't take this personally, okay? It's not like I made this for you or anything."

Ayano eyes the bento carefully, before carefully opening the box. She's greeted with a Hello Kitty design painstakingly etched with nori onto the rice.

"I just had a little extra time," Osana insists.

Ayano presses the chopsticks into the Hello Kitty, taking out the design's ear. In her mouth, the rice is still warm.


	5. now see that noble and most sovereign reason

"Hey Dad," Ayano says, holding the phone in between her shoulder and her head. Her feet kick at the empty space at the edge of the bed. "School's been great. I made lots of new friends."

"That's good," says her father from the other end of the line. He sounds relieved. "How are things going with Midori-chan?"

"We hung out at the mall last Saturday," Ayano says. It's a lie. She hasn't really talked to Midori after befriending Senpai—after all, if Senpai knows that there are other people her age she talks to, Osana will use it as leverage to toss her away. "She has a boyfriend now. The one from the other high school."

Another lie. Ayano's carefully crafted a gilded cage for her father, who seems to fear that she's capable of something terrible beyond imagination. Ignorance is bliss. She'll be his precious daughter for a few years longer.

"And you?" her father asks. There's a hint of anticipation in his voice. It's obvious what it means, but Ayano ignores it, controlling her voice in the typical high and cheerful fashion.

"There's nobody," Ayano says. She pretends to be upset. "Dad, didn't you say it's too early to date?"

She knows that her father's trying to find an excuse to see her as a monster. He's afraid of her, just as he's afraid of her mother, just as he's afraid all the women who came before. He knows she has the ability.

"That's my princess," her father laughs. "No boys, okay?" He's not scared yet. There's some hope in his tone, too, hope that maybe, just maybe, heaven forbid it, she's taken after him.

It's a shame, Ayano thinks. Her poor, innocent father.

" _Dad_ ," Ayano says, forcing her voice into a whine. She twirls her hair, her nails digging into the mattress. She tires of the farce sometimes, especially when Senpai's face is open in a random page of her scrapbook, ready to be admired. There's so much other things that she could be doing instead of talking to her fragile, pitiful father.

Her father laughs. "Not until college," he says, pretending to be gruff. "I don't want to see some young ruffian breaking my Ayano's heart."

Not that there's any boy that could break her heart, Ayano thinks. She strokes Senpai's flat cheek. Light reflects against the glossy surface.

"Didn't you and Mom date in high school?" she says. She knows it's a sore subject. She feels a small smile form on her face at the thought of making him upset, but only in small increments, of course. She's not indelicate. "That isn't fair."

"Ah," her father begins, and there's the desired effect. He pauses, hesitant. She can just barely hear him  _tsk_ in the distance, and then release a low, defeated sigh.

"Your mother and I rushed through a lot of things in our relationship when we were young," he finally settles, his words just barely civil. "I don't want you to go through the same things that I—that  _we_ went through."

Her poor, poor father. He thinks he's protecting her, isn't he? That Ayano's still his small, unknowing daughter, a victim in Ryouba's twisted game.

She hasn't been innocent for a long time, Ayano thinks. There isn't blood on her fingers, at least not yet, but she's content to watch the machinations fall into place around her.

"I guess," she says into the phone. The words fall easily. It's so easy to lie. Or, at the very least, feign ignorance.

Her father gives a nervous chuckle. "Don't think about these things for now," he tells her, static crackling in the phone. "I know it's your first year in high school, but college is only three years away. If you want to get into Tokyo University grades are important."

"I know," Ayano says, ever the dutiful daughter. "When will you and Mom return home?"

Her father stills. There's a moment where no one says anything.

Just as Ayano thinks he's hung up on her, a faint static buzzing returns from the other end.

"Soon," her father tells her, finally. "I don't know the full details yet, but we'll be back soon Pumpkin, alright?"

"Alright," Ayano replies. "I miss you."

She's not even listening to the conversation anymore. The only thing that matters right now is Senpai. Senpai's face, Senpai's smile, Senpai—

"I miss you too," her father says. "Bye. I love you."

 _Yes_ , Ayano thinks, turning the page to a picture of Senpai smiling on the rooftop,  _but for how long?_

The phone clicks. 

Silence.

 


	6. that unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth

The plan to get rid of Oka plays over and over in Ayano's mind over the weekend, first out of curiosity and then out of necessity. There's so many things she could do—destroy his reputation, frame him, sic the delinquents on him—and yet somehow the Oka in her mind seems to transcend these petty matters every time. She wakes up from a nightmare of him kissing Senpai.

Ayano's not pleased. Oka's supposed to be her first minor obstacle to Senpai, a tutorial level before she has to confront any of the real BOSSes.

She knows that there are other people who like Senpai. It makes sense—Senpai's such a beautiful, charismatic figure—but she hates even the idea of it, and Oka will surely be the first of many she will clear out of the way.

Or so she tells herself, packing up her backpack before she leaves for school.

It's a beautiful day. Ayano's bike creaks as it rolls over the hilly roads of Buraza town. Some of the local shop owners—friends of her parents—wave at her when she passes by, shouting words of greeting and encouragement. On her right, she can see the sparkling waves of the ocean, the tides ebbing and flowing.

She sweeps into Akademi High just as Taiso-sensei begins closing the front gates. She's not the latest one by far—Midori rushes through the gates a long second after Ayano, followed by another lanky blonde boy Ayano's not very familiar with.

"All of you will be running laps next time you do this, hear that?" Taiso-sensei lectures, crossing her arms. "Now, now, go. Shoo. You'll be late to class."

Ayano nods quietly. It's not that she minds running laps, but she hasn't had a good night's sleep in a while since Oka Ruto set one of his sinister eyes on Senpai. It'd be troublesome to exhaust her energy by noon.

"Hey, Ayano," Midori says, as they stop at the lockers to take off their shoes. She flashes a quick smile. "I never see you anymore! Even Kokona was talking about how you don't hang out with us anymore."

Ayano struggles for an excuse. "I eat lunch with my club seniors now," she offers, and tries to remember if Senpai was in a club. She doesn't think so, but Osana seems like exactly the kind of wimp who would be cleaning house with an overbearing wife in the Cooking Club. "I'm sorry if I can't talk with you as much because of them."

Midori eats it up, her face transforming from surprised to sympathetic. "Poor you," she says, twisting a tendril of loose hair at her ear. "You should come with us afternoon sometime. My parents would love to have you."

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to intrude," Ayano replies politely. And then, taking advantage of Midori's ant-sized attention span, she changes the subject. "There's one minute before class starts."

Midori swears, throwing on her outdoor shoes and ghosting upstairs to the school. Ayano's not as panicked, taking her time to stroll upstairs.

The halls are mostly empty at this time of day, the majority of students hidden away behind whitewashed walls and steel doors. It's peaceful, she thinks, watching the dappled morning sunlight peek in through a window. She could stay like this forever.

Unfortunately, none of the things in Ayano's life seems to be going right. The bell rings suddenly, loud and blaring, and she walks into class to Fuka-sensei's disappointed face.

"You, stay after class," Fuka-sensei says, rapping the chalkboard eraser against her podium. "I will not tolerate tardiness to my class."

The class titters. In one corner, Sakyu Basu rolls her eyes and snorts.

Ayano nods quietly. Her fingers clench against her schoolbag. "Sorry, sensei," she says, faking dejectedness. It's a lucky thing that she sits near the end of the room; it's harder for Fuka-sensei to see if anything's off with her expression.

The class commences. Ayano drifts off again and again, Fuka-sensei's words melding into blurs. Her pencils scratch incoherent patterns into paper.

Nothing's going right today. It's not a good omen, especially since she's facing off Oka so soon.

Unfortunately, it only gets worse from there.


	7. that sucked the honey of his music vows

Ayano opens the door to the Occult Club slowly. The door creaks with a solemn groan but gives way, the bottom part of the frame rubbing against the carpet with a low hiss.

The club room is just as unfriendly as she remembers it. There's a circular array of electric candles flickering in the middle of the carpet, and though not an open flame it serves a fire hazard regardless. In an altar pressed against the back of the room, a smiling skull effigy leers at her. Pentagrams and stars abound throughout the walls.

She's the first one to arrive. It's ten minutes until the scheduled meeting time at 5, but Ayano had wanted to leave a good impression on the Occult Club members. For now, they're her main pathway to Oka, and it might be useful to know them later on as well; Ayano's barely had time to make any connections since she first met Senpai, and though she knows other channels exist she would rather not involve herself with any shady characters just yet.

There's not much she can do for now, so she busies herself instead with getting settled in. She gingerly sets her backpack on one of the little hooks near the bookshelf, frowning as a little cloud of dust escapes with the disturbance.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Aishi-san."

Ayano doesn't turn around; she'd heard the footsteps a hallway ago. Still, it takes her a while to match the voice to the face (although it shouldn't have, given that there's only one person in the Occult Club seemingly capable of talking without stuttering). 

"And why not, Atsu-san?"

Atsu Daku wears about him the same dark, oppressive gloom she'd seen on Oka. Under the dim light, his glasses glint harshly. The effect is even more pronounced when the door shuts closed behind him with a dull thud, leaving the two of them alone in the darkness.

"You'll get your backpack dirty," Atsu says, striding over and plucking her bag from the hook. He's taller than she remembers, towering over her by a good head or so. "Usually we leave our backpacks by the door."

"Thank you," Ayano responds, remembering to flash him a quick smile.

Atsu nods but doesn't reply. Ayano stands awkwardly by the door, watching him as he reaches for a book from one of the top shelves of the bookcase. In the silence, he strides to the armchair across the room and sits down, ignoring her presence entirely.

It's certainly a warm welcome, she thinks dryly, but again she hadn't expected them to welcome her with much enthusiasm. And Atsu isn't the one she's trying to get closer to, anyhow. 

Jutsu Kokuma arrives next, shuffling awkwardly through the doorway. She has a strange gait, Ayano observes. There are rumors she's heard here and there about it, but seeing the limp personally is another thing altogether.

"Hello," Ayano greets politely.

Kokuma nods, as if she doesn't know what to say or do. They stand at an impasse for a few seconds before Ayano pretends to be interested in her phone, which Kokuma takes advantage of to settle herself in the armchair across from Atsu.

Supana creaks open the door not long after, followed by Tekina Chojo and the ever-elusive Higaku Shin. The three of them enter in complete silence, their faces blank and stiff.

"Oh hi, Supana-chan," Ayano says, allowing a smile to form on her face. "How are you?"

Supana gives a weak smile back, walking over quietly. "F-fine, thank y-you," she nods. "And y-you?"

"I read _The_   _Five Pointed Star_ over the weekend," Ayano says. "Thanks for lending it to me."

It was a terrible read. Ayano had only flipped through some of the pages for believability, and even then she'd questioned how such pointless drivel had been published in the first place. 

"A-ah," Supana says, nodding. "D-did you l-l-like i-it?"

"I did," Ayano says, careful not to keep her smile from twitching. "I thought some of the the things Honda-sensei had to say were very provocative."

Supana nods again. "I th-think that a lot of the th-th-things about demons in our e-everyday world w-was in-interesting."

"Right," Ayano says. "Absolutely."

Ayano's finally rescued from the conversation with the arrival of Oka, who'd somehow entered the room without her notice. He's wearing a black cape today, a ridiculous thing with a collar around his chin and a train a good foot past his feet.

"W-we are summoning a d-demon today," Oka announces grandiosely, or, really, as grand as he can while stuttering in a bad vampire costume, "Sh-shin, you will serve as th-the officiant recordkeeper today."

Shin nods, pulling out from the bookshelf an old book so ancient it looked as if it would fall apart any minute now. "The O-occult Club's three-hundred and f-fifth official summoning s-session," he says, clicking open a pen and scribbling onto one of the middle pages of the book. "We w-will begin a-at the a-auspicious time of f-four fifteen."

The Occult Club members arrange themselves around the circle. Oka reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a mass of black robes, passing them out to every member.

"T-try this," Oka says, offering Ayano a robe. She puts it on intrepidly, surprised to find it a good fit on her body "I h-had it made for you y-yesterday."

She doesn't dwell too long on the thought. There's an empty spot in between Supana and Shin that she squeezes into, raising her hands in a mirror of the others.

" _Kan, ji, zai, bo, sa, gyo_ ," Oka recites, his voice low and strangely, almost titillating. " _Jin, han-nya, ha, ra, mi, ta_..."

" _Sho, ken, go, on, kai, ku_ ," the members repeat. Ayano does her best to follow, despite feeling absolutely ridiculous. " _Do, is-sai, ku, yaku..._ "

All of the electric candles suddenly short out, plunging the room into darkness.

Ayano raises her eyebrows as someone across from her screams, and next to her she can feel Supana gripping tightly onto her arm. There's an awkward moment of shuffling when Atsu finally finds the light-switch along the wall, returning the surroundings to normalcy.

"T-this is the first s-sign of acknowledgement w-we've had since the Occult Club's f-founding," Oka says, looking up at Ayano as if in a new light. There's a strange look in his eye she doesn't like, crazed and hungry. "Y-you must have a-a strong a-affinity with the D-dark Arts."

"Oh, no," Ayano says, raising her arms in protest. In the loose black robes, the fabric flaps ridiculously with every movement. "I'm sure it's just a—a coincidence—..."

Oka smiles. It's the first time she's seen any of the Occult Club members express any emotion at all, and somehow it's all wrong. 

"T-thank you for joining our c-club," Oka says, stepping closer to her. Ayano bristles, trying to resist the strange feeling that she's being preyed on. "And welcome."


End file.
